


Glory Days

by The_Magic_Lava_Lamp



Series: Glory Days [1]
Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:08:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Lava_Lamp/pseuds/The_Magic_Lava_Lamp
Summary: (Modern High School AU) Micky and Davy are entering their Junior year as best friends just like every year. And Davy is planning to act on his crush on Micky.Though it seems that with the entrance of the seemingly standoffish Mike, everything changes.Ships: Dolenzmith & Jork





	1. The First Day

The bitter and disgusting taste of Monday morning was sitting uncomfortably at the back of Davy's throat as he trotted down his steps. He took a long sip of the tea his father had made for him to wash the unwanted taste down. He jetted his hand out to curl his fingers under the plain black handle of the eyesore of a car.

The exterior of the vehicle had hand painted designs....hand painted. 'It was terrible and kitschy and...a little endearing'. Davy wiped that trace of a grin away as he took the passengers seat. He reached over to turn the radio on, without realizing what it would pick up from.

The car shook with the intensity of the volume during some strange song. "Good Morning, Good Morning...!" The car screamed. Davy slapped his hands to cover his ears. "Micky!" He scowled.

Micky turned to him with a grin that lit up his whole face and reached over to turn the volume down. As his fingers danced down the dial, he turned back to his shorter friend. "Good Morning." He greeted in a sing-songy face and Davy wanted to throttle him.

"I hate the first day." Davy frowned and hit the back of his head against the head rest of Micky's car. Micky put the car in gear and drove off into the street. "And not just because it's school but it is also your most annoying day of the year." He sighed. 

Micky chuckled. "I dunno, don't you think free cookie day gives it a run for it's money?" He asked, puffing his cheek out in fake thought and Davy groaned, remembering that specific day each year.

Davy spent the rest of the short car ride to school sipping on his tea and staring out the window.

Micky pulled up to his regular space and hopped out of his door, stretching as if he'd been sitting there for an eternity. Davy took a slower pace, strolling out and shutting the door behind him as Micky came round to stand and wait.

It was then that Davy got a good look at what his friend was wearing. An old tie-dyed shirt from some science camp he'd gone too (He stared momentarily at the disastrous handwriting those kids had signed their names with on the fabric) . And a jean jacket sat nicely on his shoulders, patches here, there and everywhere. It was very Micky alright...just a little more put together than usual. Davy smirked.

"Dressed up for the first day?" He sipped his tea and Micky looked down at himself and shrugged. 

"I make an effort sometimes. By the way, I wanna wear my crocs tomorrow can you come with me to buy jibbitz?" He asked as if Davy should just know what those were as he kicked his leg out to emphasize. 

"First of all, I hate those shoes please burn them. Second of all, what are Jibbitz, Micky?" Davy seemed to enhance his British accent with his disgust. 

Micky did that breathy little sigh he did and Davy bit hard into his lip. "Y'know the charms that you put on them." He chuckled and Davy rolled his eyes just as they got to Davy's locker.

Davy wasted no time, opening his locker and almost pouting as he got what he needed. Micky watched him silently, leaning on the locker next to his and pursed his lips.

"I'll meet you behind the bleachers during your gym class...eighth period right?" Micky lolled his head to the side as Davy smiled. It had become somewhat of a tradition for Micky to help him skip his gym class as Davy claimed dodge-ball every day was not a good enough exercise to participate in. 

"Yeah. Don't be late or-" 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah or you're gonna get hit by another dodge-ball, I get it." Micky started to twirl away, waving his hand to dismiss an annoyed Davy. 

"I didn't get hit, Micky! I almost got hit!" He shouted after him but Micky was already down the hall, so he gave up and went off to his class. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky held his books clumsily at his side as he happily strolled to what was going to be his favorite class of the day, Science. Specifically, chemistry. He pushed the door open and the teacher sitting at the head desk grinned so he smiled back before sitting at the desk of his choosing.

The room was for the most part pretty empty. So Micky just pulled out his notebook and started doodling. But soon enough, his classmates filed in close to the ring of the bell. So he set aside his things and prepared to take notes, sliding his glasses on so he could actually see.

As he did so, a guy passed by his desk going straight for the row of desks in the 'low maintenance area' which was basically just the middle row that teachers tended to pick on less.

Micky momentarily searched his brain to try and remember if he'd ever seen him before. In a class or in the hall but he couldn't place him so he shrugged to himself and turned forward again. The teacher was going on about some of the regular 'back to school' stuff.

But a couple minutes into the lecture, a phone went off. And for some reason, Micky just knew whose it was. He turned his head just like his classmates to the guy.

He raised his lower lip in a 'I got it' kind of half grin and silenced the thing, making a point to show he was putting it away. The teacher let it slide, returning back to his lecture. But Micky seemed to be the only one to notice that the guy just pulled it back out again. He furrowed his brows once more before again, going back to focusing.

At the end of the class, Micky hopped up and went about finding his next class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And when the bell rang at the end of his last class of the day, Micky happily glided out and started on his way to the outside of the school and towards the lawn where Davy's gym class would be. He briefly paused to enjoy the clear air and sunshine before bounding to the football field where Mr. Wilson was standing, whistle around his neck.

Micky threw a smile at Davy before throwing himself into acting. "Mr. Wilson!"

The teacher jumped into the air comically as the class laughed. He turned to Micky with an annoyed face. But Micky only smiled, tilting his head to the side. "Mrs. Kennedy had a terrible accident in the art room. Oh you should have seen it, Carl knocked over the tubs of paint.....ooohhh, it was a mess of abstract art all over the floor-" Micky waved his arms around.

"And what does this have to do with me, Mr. Dolenz?" He asked, not too amused and Micky closed his mouth as if he was politely stopping his little rant short. 

"Well, She asked for people to help clean and Davy's still has to get some work hours in from when the principal punished him for-" 

"Ok ok, Davy get outta here." Mr. Wilson gave in and Micky proudly smiled at his ability to annoy people with his babbling.

Davy gladly took off after Micky and they settled themselves hidden behind the bleachers. They sat against the fence behind them with grins. 

"So, how was your first day?" Micky turned his head to Davy who was picking at the hole in his jeans. 

"As underwhelming as ever, you?" Davy returned the question and Micky recalled his day. 

"Not too bad for the first day-" Micky cut himself short when they both turned to look down to the other set of bleachers next to them. They heard some rustling and sure enough, there was some blonde guy rolling a slip of paper as someone came round the corner. 

Micky recognized him instantly as that guy from his chemistry class.

"They're gonna get themselves caught doing that 'ere." Davy rolled his eyes and Micky didn't say anything. 

"Think they'll share?" He turned to Davy with the hint of a teasing grin and Davy rolled his eyes with a scoff. Micky just started to laugh, sitting on a rock nearby.

The two of them talked back and forth for a while longer, every once in a while they'd look over to see if those guys were still there. But soon enough, Davy's class was going to head inside soon so Davy figured he'd better join back in the last five minutes. 

"I'll see you after school!" Davy ran off towards the field once again, leaving Micky alone. He let himself look back to those guys. The guy from his class took a long drag and blew the smoke to the side. 

Micky quickly sidetracked himself though and got up to run back to the school to meet Davy when the bell rang.

As he got to the front of the school, he was careful to hop over the crack in the sidewalk just before the curb. And because he was impatient, Micky decided he didn't feel like waiting outside and rushed inside to get to Davy's locker.

But of course Micky just ran right into Davy on his friends way outside and they both were knocked to the floor because Micky was almost never walking slow.

Davy felt the wind getting knocked out of him and looked up at Micky's look of amusement. He felt the back of his head on the cool tile and Micky's head was blocking out the fluorescent light above them. Davy felt a little bit of heat in his cheeks before Micky instantly shot up, pulling Davy with him.

"Sorry." He chuckled, already moving to start walking back outside. Davy was uncharacteristically, not immediately complaining about it. Which made Micky raise his brow. 

"S'fine. But that's what happens when you tear through the halls like an animal, Micky." Davy scoffed.

'There it was' Micky thought to himself as they walked side by side out of the school like they did almost every day. 

As they left the building, Micky noticed just how many rain clouds had popped up since he was last out. He took a deep breath and hurried to his car with Davy following after.

As they settled inside, Micky getting ready to pull out of the lot, Davy spoke up. "Are we going to that coffee place you like?"

Micky hummed and threw him a little grin as he looked behind him. "Maybe." He waggled his brows and Davy rolled his eyes. Micky turned out of the lot and began his routine way of getting there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you think the-the um....?" Micky clicked his finger a few times as he sat across Davy who was clueless as to what Micky was trying to get at. "What are they called here?" Micky pointed to the people at the counter. 

"Don't point at them, Micky." Davy made an offended face and slapped his friends hand down. "And the word you're looking for is, Barista." 

Micky raised his brow. "Really? Even the guys are called baristas?" Davy nodded and sipped his drink, looking at Micky like he was stupid. "I like it." Micky hummed and took a large sip of his own.

"And what you were trying to ask was...?"

"Oh, yeah!" Micky laughed and Davy bit into his lower cheek to fight a grin. "Do you think that barista guy was flirting with me?" Micky wiggled his brows. Davy looked back to who had served them and back at Micky with a teasing grin. 

"The question is, did you flirt back? Cause if you did, it'd be pretty embarrassing since he was not." Davy spoke in a bitchy tone and sipped on his straw like he was innocent. 

Micky scoffed with a small laugh. "I did. And it was appropriate since he was flirting with me."

"Let's say he was. You probably scared him away cause you're terrible at flirting." Davy continued and tried to stop his laughter when Micky made a large gasping sound. 

"I am not. I got you, didn't I?" Micky pursed his lips and Davy paused for a moment. 

"I only hang around you cause I feel bad for you." Davy did a little shoulder shrug and looked away. Micky shook his head and laughed before reaching over to playfully punch Davy, who finally let out his laugh. 

"Besides, It's me who's the catch here." Davy chuckled and Micky sipped on his drink with a playful roll of his eyes. 

The two of them continued on that way for another twenty minutes, most likely annoying the other customers before Micky decided it was time to go. He bit his straw and made sure his last sip of coffee was going to last him longer than it should. Davy tossed his empty cup in the bin as they went out.

Micky tilted his head up towards the sun like an idiot and squinted. However instead of going in his car like a normal person, Micky leaned against the back. Davy paused from where he was strolling to join him. "What are we doing?"

Micky shrugged. "Can you believe we're Juniors already?" He asked after a short pause.

"Already? I feel like s'been draggin' on for way too long. We're not even Seniors yet." Davy frowned, he was indeed ready to get out of high school. Though looking at Micky, he'd say he felt the opposite. 

"I dunno man, things are gonna change real soon." Micky frowned and took the smallest sip of his drink, now more like a thin puddle at the bottom of his cup. For a moment or two, Davy froze. 

"Well, at least we'll have each other." Davy bumped his arm and Micky happily grinned, warming up Davy's chest. 

"Right...or more like, you're too annoying for me to get rid of no matter how hard I try." Micky joked again and Davy smacked his arm. 

"You must not try hard enough. I think you like me more than you let on." Davy pursed his lips and Micky laughed. 

"Maybe a little too much." Micky winked and spoke in a completely sarcastic exaggerated voice, letting Davy know he wasn't serious. But his stomach flipped all the same. "Alright, let's take you home." Micky suddenly twirled around to walk over to the drivers side. 

Davy strolled over to the passengers side and slid in while Micky got ready to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky pulled up to the curb in front of Davy's house and shifted into park before turning to Davy. "Alright, get outta my car." He pointed and smiled. Davy unbuckled but remained seated.

"Don't be late picking me up tomorrow." He reminded his friend, who he knew would instantly get into that habit. 

"I won't, I swear." Micky flashed him a grin and Davy rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time. Davy turned to open the door before Micky spoke again. "Oh! I almost forgot, My friend Samantha invited us to a party on Friday...?" 

Micky trailed off, looking rather excited but Davy frowned. "Why don't you like her again?" Micky chuckled, setting his phone in his upholders.

"S'not that I don't like her it's just-" 

"That you don't like her." Micky finished for him and offered a smirk when Davy rolled his eyes. 

Honestly, Micky wasn't wrong. Davy didn't like Samantha. But the girl was always being playfully flirty with Micky even though the whole school knew he was gay. It was just common knowledge. Micky never had to come out.

'But this girl was always on him like bees to honey.....maybe he was exaggerating. But he still didn't want to go.'

"So I'm guessing, your answer is no?" Micky asked and Davy shrugged. He was aware that if he said no, Micky wouldn't go either. Micky was a very outgoing guy but he didn't like to go to parties alone.

"Ughhhh." Davy threw his head back and Micky just mocked him right back. 

"Ughhhh." He chuckled a bit at the end. "Fine, we'll do something else on Friday." 

Davy tried to conceal his large grin at that statement. "See you tomorrow, Micky." Davy basically jumped from the car after that and strolled to his home.

"Bye, Davy!"


	2. Ignorance

Davy stood on the tips of his toes, a cup of tea curled in his hand as he tried to peek subtly out the window. Through the clean glass he could see the healthy green grass of their lawn with speckles of yellow dandelions. And parked almost perfectly on their curb was the bright car Davy was all too familiar with.

The front tire was raised the tiniest bit, climbing the curb and edging near the grass. Micky was sat cross-legged on the hood, the early morning sun seemingly outlined him with burnt orange light. Davy flattened his feet and took a deep breath as he turned back to walk through the kitchen.

His father looked up from his laptop and gave him a small smile as a goodbye which Davy returned. He lingered behind the front door for a few seconds before he actually opened the door and started to walk over to the car.

Micky's head snapped up in an instant and he grinned. He threw his legs over the side of the car and waited until Davy stood in front of him to speak. "My parents are getting ridiculous." He flattened his palm on the windshield as he leaned over.

"Yeah? How's that?" Davy asked as he leaned in the open window to set his books down on the passengers seat. He glanced at the ripping edge of the history book he was just given yesterday and grimaced. 

"They called you my boyfriend today." Micky chuckled with a shake of his head and Davy's stomach dropped. He knew well enough that Micky's parents seemed to think they were dating which Davy couldn't help but think was a good sign. It had to mean that Micky talked about him a lot. 

Micky did a little half roll of his eyes, stopping to glance at a bird as it flew over their heads to land on a nearby tree branch. "Apparently, we are a 'cute couple' Davy." Micky did little air quotes as he laughed it off.

Davy grinned, feeling a little bit better about the day now.

"I think they're just gonna think I'm dating every guy friend I have. I'm afraid they are a little clueless about this whole...me being gay thing." Micky hopped off the hood and finally went round to get inside. 

He looked at Davy, who shrugged as if to say 'What are you gonna do?'. So he smiled back at him. "You have to admit. We would be a cute couple." Micky gave him a tiny wink before pulling off the curb and driving.

'We would be the hottest couple, no doubt' Davy thought to himself and chuckled under his breath. 

Micky considered himself lucky to have Davy, who never seemed bothered or phased by Micky's sexuality. It was stereotypical but most straight guys would rather die, it seemed, than have a guy playfully flirt with them. And Micky was glad that Davy was an exception to that stereotype.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky stood on his tip-toes (though there was no need) as he shoved his books into his locker. His shirt riding up as he stretched his arms and Davy found himself paying too much attention to the small peek of skin just above his hipbone.

Micky flattened his feet and twirled to face Davy who put on a grin, handing over his books. "Can you put these in your locker? Mine's too far." He shook them with a pleading face and Micky rolled his eyes before doing as he asked.

The boys separated shortly after that when the bell rang. Micky hung his glasses from the collar of his shirt and knocked his locker shut with his elbow. He shoved his earbuds into his ear and grinned.

He couldn't lie, he did feel a little cool every morning when he strolled down the hall to whatever song he was obsessed with that week. And he was happy to start off the next school year the same way.

He happily reached for the classroom door, it swung open and he looked over his shoulder to see if any of his classmates were coming. He bumped the door with his hip so it would stay open for a few extra seconds before strolling inside.

He was hit with the comforting cool air conditioner breeze that soothed the heat he'd been feeling. He was glad that he was no longer going to be sweating. He ran his hand through his hair to make sure it was still straight and not frizzing.

He was doodling swirls on the corner of his paper when his teacher started to talk about the practice lab they'd be doing today....'Shit, the lab!'

Micky glanced down at his crocs under the table and swore under his breath when the teacher started to gesture for everyone to get to it. Micky rushed over to the head of the classroom where he was sitting at the desk.

"Mr. Smith?" Micky rolled from heel to toe with nerves. 

"Yes, Mr. Dolenz?" The man smiled, a friendly teacher. 

"You see, I have 'open toed shoes' technically...so I can't participate...?" Micky kicked his foot up for reference and Mr. Smith gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged. 

"I'm afraid not." 

Micky's stomach dropped. He knew it was stupid. He got good grades. It would not be that hard for him to make this up, considering he was a whiz at Science. But this was the first lab of the damn year and he wanted to do it.

Sensing his displeasure, Mr. Smith smiled again. "You'll have to do this worksheet instead..." He handed the flimsy paper over. "Unless someone is willing to switch shoes?" He offered.

Micky shrugged and turned back over to his desk. He shoved his glasses on and blinked when he felt tears well up. 'Don't be a baby' he shook his head. He'd only written the 'Mi' of his name on the line when-

"Hey." 

"Shit!" Micky jumped and he could feel everyone's eyes on him, he frowned but turned to see who'd just made him curse loudly in the middle of class. It was the guy he and Davy'd seen the other day by the bleachers.

He looked mighty amused at Micky's reaction, hands shoved into his pockets with a smug grin.

"Hey?" Micky raised his brow. 

He gave Micky a thin lipped smile and gestured down to the worksheet. "I thought we might switch?" He looked amused again when Micky brightened.

"Really?" He stood, chair wobbling behind him. The guy took a step back and chuckled, wiping his thumb on his chin. 

"Yeah, I can skate by with the points off. And I'd rather not to do this anyway" He shrugged, looking back at the students setting up for the lab. Micky pursed his lips, knowing it was quite a few points off. "So....?" 

Micky nodded. "Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you." Micky sat on the edge of his desk and slipped his crocs off. Micky held out one of the shoes while he got the other one off.

The guy took it, holding it a little ways from his chest with a look of amusement and judgement. Micky held out the other one as he dropped his thigh back on the table and shrugged. "They're comfortable." He pushed his glasses up his nose and rolled his lips together while the guy bent down to untie his.

When he was done, he handed them over to Micky who beamed back at him. "Thank you, kind stranger." He held the shoes and spoke with exaggeration but he was genuine.

"Mike." He nodded and Micky nodded. 

"I'm Micky. Thank you!" He hopped off the desk and took off towards Mr. Smith's desk to explain. Mike sat down, sliding the paper towards him. 

He took a pen and used the already written 'Mi' to start his own name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky had switched back with the guy, Mike, after class. They'd exchanged amused smiles and went about their days. He was now perched at the edge of the rock behind the bleachers.

Davy leaned on the fence in front of him, lines of light covering his face. Micky had yet again come up with another long & rushed explanation as to why Davy could not participate in gym. It worked like a charm again. Sooner or later, the teacher would just stop caring.

"-Anyway I got to do the lab!" Micky tilted his chin up from his phone, blinking at the sunlight beaming down on him. He wiggled his phone in his hand and sat back. 

"Who switched shoes with you again?" Davy pursed his lips, laughing a little at Micky's ridiculous shoe choice. He could feel the sunlight hot against his temple as he scrunched his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I dunno, some guy." Micky shrugged, looking back down at his phone again as they could hear the distant sounds of pebbles shuffling. It was just those same guys smoking their weed from before.

Though this time, Davy almost thought he saw a little recognition on Micky's face. But the boy blinked it away, turning back to face Davy. "Wanna get ice cream after school?" 

Davy paused, debating on whether he should ask about that look but he figured it was nothing. He shrugged, "Sure."

Micky grinned, trying not to glance back at that guy and his friend. It was odd of him not to share every possible detail of his story to Davy but he figured it'd be better to keep who the guy had actually been, to himself.

'This Mike guy looks like a slacker anyway...' Micky tilted his head to observe them when Davy wasn't looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mike watched Peter roll his joint as he sat on the ground with a raised eyebrow. He leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms. The blonde was what his uncle might've called a 'strange character'. Mike kneeled down, the bones in his legs cracking a little causing him to grimace.

Whatever it was about Peter, Mike sort of appreciated it. Peter did not seem to mind too much what people thought about him. Here he was hanging out with Mike, who had thought that he was just one of those stoner 'Hot Rags' employees who smelled too strongly of incense, and he didn't even care.

"Here." Peter smiled kindly and handed over the joint which Mike took quickly while he politely returned the smile.

As Mike blew smoke out, her felt a shiver go up his spine and he shifted. Peter glanced up from the rolling of his own joint and raised his eyebrow. "Got eyes on you, man?"

Mike pulled back at the odd question and as he did, he caught a quick glimpse of that Micky guy looking at him from across the other side of the bleachers, like he was judging him. But Micky quickly looked back to his friend.

He shook his head and turned back to Peter, he shrugged. "You a psychic or somethin'?" Mike sarcastically asked with a smirk that his mother once told him made him look like a 'smart-ass'...of course she had said it in a polite Texan mother kind of way.

Peter wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe." He laughed and Mike had to too.

"Oh my-" He chuckled. "You were one of those kids that had a phase where they thought they were a witch, aren't you?" Mike asked with a grin. He asked because Peter struck him as the type. And he remembered the girl who used to live down the street from his mother & him. 

Her name was Sally or something like that and she used to sit at the end of block in front of her house and draw with chalk. She wore ribbons in her pigtails, and was always running around the street all hyper. If Mike remembered correctly, she had that witch phase. Mike thought he had something of a crush on her, something he laughed off now. He would ride his crappy little bike past her on his way to the park to see what she was drawing that day. Though his mother had told him to stay away from her, she was an 'off child' she explained with an obvious struggle to put it in a way that he'd understand. But he rode past her still, her drawings had ranged from black cats to pointy hats, 'she wasn't very creative that Sally' Mike laughed to himself.

Peter looked as if he wanted to share the joke but Mike just shook his head.

"It wouldn't be shocking to say yes, would it?" Peter played with the joint between his fingers and grinned ear to ear. Mike shook his head against the wall and remained quite amused for the rest of the day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Micky, slow down." Davy grimaced as he sat down across from Micky at the patio table, under a long yellow umbrella. Davy had just got his cone and Micky was already working his way through his ice-cream. 

Micky liked his way up the side of his cone and shivered in his seat. The sprinkles pooled on his tongue for a few seconds. "You're really sure you don't wanna go to that party on Friday?" Micky asked with a mock pout.

Davy frowned and shoved his spoon into his ice-cream."I dunno, Micky. All High School parties are the same." He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Micky licked up the side of his cone again without speaking and Davy decided it was best to look away. "Like eight people threw up last time." Davy scrunched up his nose.

Micky chuckled. "You have to admit that it was really funny when that guy Steve slipped in it later-" Micky was cut off by Davy gagging at the memory. Micky just continued on licking his ice-cream without being phased while Davy pushed his aside with distaste for a moment.

"That was disgusting, Micky...." He trailed off as he watched Micky again, still eating. "You're a freak, did you know that?" Davy shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

"In more ways then one." Micky wiggled his eyebrows, the cone just covering his smirk and Davy just threw the napkin ball at him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky let his front door close behind him as he strolled into his house, the new backpack he'd bought on his way home was swinging under his arm. His father was sat at the kitchen counter and smiled upon his entry, pushing over a plate. "Your mother made cookies...if you're still hungry that is." He remarked, looking at Micky who told him he'd been out for ice-cream.

Micky immediately sat across from his father, helping himself to the cookies to which his father laughed. "You never get full...always been that way." His dad, George, rubbed his hand under his chin as he chuckled. There was a flicker in his laugh that told Micky he was about to get sentimental or emotional. He supposed kids just had that instinct with their parents.

He swallowed the clump of food in his mouth and smiled, throwing his new backpack on the counter next to him. The mellowing yellow light-bulb above their heads bounced off the shiny holographic silver fabric. George's eyes ran over it, eyebrows raising with that little aged crinkle just over the bridge of his nose while a small smile grew. "New?"

Micky looked up from his cookie and smiled. "Yeah." He licked the crumbs off his lips and shifted on the stool. "Like it?" Micky asked, his smile pulling at his fathers heart.

George picked it up and held it under the light. "Oh, it's beautiful. See how it shines?" He swayed it back and forth while Micky grinned. "You have such a good taste, like your mom." He set the bag back on the table.

"Aren't I suppose to be like you?" Micky mumbled under his breath and George paused, it wasn't like Micky to be bitter. 

"You are. Just like both of us-" George felt the need to 'correct' himself but felt a little deflated. Micky reached for another cookie with a neutral expression. "What do you mean, Micky?" He gave his son a look, who shuffled in his seat. 

"I dunno, really" Micky shrugged, voice back to it's light tone. "When I got the backpack, the checkout guy gave me this look." Micky picked at the chipping edge of the counter and looked down, the way he did when he was nervous or shy. 

"A look?" George asked his son, who nodded in confirmation. "I thought that was a good thing." He leaned closer, eyebrow raised with confusion which Micky mirrored. Micky tried to read his father's face before it clicked to him what he'd meant by that.

"No, no, no, it wasn't that- It was not- it wasn't the kind of look I want from a guy." Micky flinched at that response, physically wanting to drop the conversation and run. He immediately paused and looked up at the ceiling, his father sensed his discomfort. 

"Well what kind of look, son?" He tried again, wanting to get what was bothering him out of his son. 

Micky looked down from the ceiling again and back to his dad. "Like...like he was judging me." He grimaced to himself, not even sure why he'd decided to bring this up. It was not as if he was particularly bothered. But maybe he was a little bit insecure.

George looked across the counter to his son. "And does that bother you?"

Micky paused, munching on his cookie. The expression on his face gave away the answer though he didn't speak at all. George frowned for a moment. "Son, You've always been the way that you are and you should never change that. I know sometimes I may seem a little ignorant but I'm very proud of you. And so is your mom." He smiled and Micky smiled back.

"People aren't always gonna understand you or your style." He rolled his lips together and Micky rested the side of his face on his open palm, nodding. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Micky finished off his cookie. George silently hoped he was doing a good job for his son. He thought back on all the talks his father had given him as a kid. And as he glanced at Micky, he realized that his father and son talks with his own son wouldn't be the same. Especially since he was now on the Father end of it all. 

"Hey dad?" 

George blinked out of his thoughts, looking back to Micky who had a question on the tip of his tongue. "Yeah?" He reached out for a cookie himself.

"There's this party on Friday...do you think I could go?" Micky was picking at the skin around his nails like he was a little nervous. George's shoulders fell as he sighed with thought. Inevitability, Micky was going to ask about parties sooner or later. He was a teenager after all. But he couldn't help but worry, like any parent would. The decision should be joint with Janelle, his wife, but Micky seemed genuinely cheered up by what he'd said and he wanted to keep him happy. Besides they'd let him go to a few parties in the past. 

"Is Davy going?" 

Micky paused for a second before nodding, he was sure he could convince Davy to go sooner or later. "Yeah, yeah he is."

"Well, ok. But don't stay out to late. Now no more cookies. Your mother will be home with dinner after work." George put on a stern voice but Micky was positively glowing with that answer.


	3. More Than A Feeling

Micky ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat was getting almost unbearable. So he shed his jean jacket with a little disappointment. He'd been a little excited to wear it with the new pins he had stuck on that morning. It sunk down to sit at his forearms and pool around his hips as he sat on the warm hood of his car. Just as he raised his wrist to wipe a bead of sweat, Davy stuck out his arm and shook a water bottle.

Micky gratefully swiped it and flipped the little straw out to sip at it. Once he felt hydrated enough, he turned to his friend. "Happy Friday." He smiled, the water sitting in the corners of his grin. Davy rolled his eyes as he flipped through some textbook.

"Happy Friday. How was your morning?" Davy asked. The two of them had elected to go sit on Micky's car instead of hover at their lockers. They had more time before class than usual. When Micky just shrugged, Davy felt he was supposed to bite. "Something on your mind, Micky?" He closed his textbook and looked up at his friend. 

Micky perked up, just as Davy had suspected he might, and smiled. "I know you said you didn't wanna go but I asked my dad and he said I could go to the party. And c'mon, man. I think it'll be fun." Micky was already rushing to defend his statement, knowing Davy well enough.

Davy didn't look happy, he narrowed his eyes and frowned.

"Tell me you're just squinting at the sun...." Micky pleaded in joking manner, looking behind him momentarily at the shinning sun but Davy didn't chuckle. Micky instantly deflated with his signature sigh. Davy seemed to take that as a win, hoping he'd drop it but Micky suddenly felt annoyed as his friend shifted through his book again. 

"I'm going whether you go or not, Davy." 

Davy snapped back up with a look of anger and a little bit of hurt that Micky didn't really notice. "That party isn't going to be any fun, you said we could do something else instead." He frowned, remembering what Micky had said before.

"I know but...I really wanna go. Samantha said it's gonna be really fun and I've decided that I'm going." Micky shrugged, looking painfully confident in his choice. Davy felt irritation grow within himself. Micky usually listened to him on these sort of things. Sure Micky was outgoing but he never liked to go to parties by himself. 

"I don't care Micky. You can go if you want." He said bitterly, flipping to random pages in his book just to look disinterested. He heard Micky's annoyed sigh as he slid off his car hood, slinging his new book-bag on his back. He was making a show of his passive aggressive attitude, Davy could tell. "Really, Micky. I don't care. You can go, I'm not mad. I don't need to go everywhere with you." Davy shrugged, kind of hoping that might trigger something in Micky.

"By the way, we're doing something cool in gym so you don't need to get me today." Davy added just to make some point. Micky frowned.

"What are you doing that's better than hanging out with me?" Micky tried to make a joke to lighten the ruined mood but Davy just slid off the car with his own books. 

"Hurdles." Davy pursed his lips with a smug tone in his voice before turning and walking off to the school doors. 

"But you hate running with hurdles!" Micky shouted after him, the early morning air caressing him. When Davy didn't answer, he just hunched back and pouted to himself for a minute. Micky shifted his weight to his other leg and let out an aggravated sigh. For a moment, he considered dropping the idea himself and watching some movie at Davy's or something. But he really wanted to go so he pushed that idea away and then he took off towards the doors himself, looking forward to chemistry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing the end of class when Mr. Smith walked up and down the aisles and collected the homework he'd assigned the past day. Micky had found it rather easy, didn't take him more than twenty minutes. And he'd even been distracted by the Boy Meets World re-runs that were playing on loop on that channel his dad watched non-stop. He did have one minor incident when his pen broke and spilled ink all over the counter.

He looked down at the pads of his fingers, hues of blue were still stained on his skin. He was still distracted by this when Mr. Smith came to his desk and swiped his worksheet off the table just before the bell rang.

Micky hurled his bag over his shoulder as he stood, his classmates pushing around him to get out. He smiled and said goodbye to a few as they passed. He could hear the talk of some of them heading over to the halfway abandoned diner next to the gas station. The place was dumpy and on it's last leg but he guessed the aesthetically pleasing vintage feel was a good enough pull for Instagram photos and miniature parties.

He'd been there a few times for parties, Sammy was a frequent guest. Samantha's encouragement had got him a lot of things. She was popular, and so by default so was he. He smiled, rubbing the side of his nose. He'd met Davy at one of those lame parties his freshman year. And from then on, they were best friends.

"Mr. Dolenz?" His teacher said just as Micky was wandering towards the door. He turned and strolled back over to the desk with a polite grin. "I was wondering if you'd be available to be an after school tutor this year?" He asked, shuffling through some papers. Micky suspected he had enough free time to tutor. He kind of liked the idea of having something to do. And he guessed it wouldn't start right away, considering it's still the first week of school.

"Sure. When does it start?" Micky asked, tilting his head. 

"We're looking at starting next week or so. Kind of soon, just wanna get a head-start on this year to help boost some students quicker." He shrugged, shoving a few papers aside to slide one stray light blue sheet. He held it out for Micky. 

"Have a parent sign this and I can put you on the list of tutors." Mr. Smith shot him one of those teacher half-smiles as Micky brought his bag around from his back to shove the paper inside. He gave his teacher one last polite smile before turning and strolling out of the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky strolled out of the last class he had for the day, feeling bittersweet. He'd skipped on rescuing Davy from his gym class, per his request, and hadn't seen him much at all during the day. But he was looking forward to the party. It was something to do and he had hope that it would be fun. As he hurled his bag higher on his shoulder, he felt someone push their hand through his curved arm to rest there.

He turned round just in time to get a smile from Samantha, her bright grin was quite the sight and he assumed it was even better to those attracted to her. He smiled back. "So Sammy, this isn't another diner party is it?" He asked, not sure why he was hoping it wasn't...probably the mosquitoes...outside parties sucked.

"Oh no no...the party is at this guy Steve's place." She nodded, checking her words back in her mind. She bit into her lip while she looked off in thought, still managing to keep pace and not trip like Micky suspected he would. "He's in my Spanish class...pretty sure he's into me. He was really stuck on me going. Asked me about 80 times." She shrugged, Micky chuckled.

"He sounds like a pig." Micky bumped Sammy's shoulder and she rolled her eyes but with a small laugh, she nodded. Micky smiled back at her and they continued walking down the hall and maneuvering through their classmates. Samantha seemed to look off in sudden thought.

"Is Davy going with you?" Sam asked, thumping her fingers against his arm as they left the school. Micky frowned, wondering if he should wait for Davy to give him his ride home.

"No, he's not into parties anymore, I guess." Micky shrugged, looking to see where Davy was and if he was coming out of the building anytime soon. Samantha slipped her hand free to cross her arms and purse her lips. Just as Micky was about to excuse himself to look for his lost friend, his phone vibrated with a text from just the guy.

'Hey! Don't need a ride today! Have fun at your party :)'

Micky wondered briefly if Davy was actually mad at him but he dismissed the thought and shrugged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was about ten minutes left before Micky needed to get to the party. He stood, leaning so far into his closet that it was a surprise, even to him, that he'd yet to fall inside. He pushed aside a few of his clothing gems to find what he was looking for. The hangers squeaked against the metal pole and he couldn't help but cringe at the unnerving sound. He could probably stand to clean out his closet but that could wait.

Carefully, he slid the shirt he'd been looking for off it's hanger yet he still managed to knock a few of it's neighbors off and onto his carpet. Instead of hanging them back up, he kicked them inside and shut the door. He quickly changed into the shirt of his choosing. He'd been attracted to the funky lettering that read 'Far Out' and the little stars around it had been his favorite part. He started his way down the stairs after grabbing a matching jacket just in case. He was hopping so he could shove his foot into his shoe, his keys hung from his mouth so they wouldn't fall. He thought he'd been slick enough to miss his parents but he supposed hopping loudly down the stairs was enough to clue them in on his leaving.

His mother, Janelle, came round the corner with that motherly grin on her face. "I expect you back home in time for dinner."

Micky, still trying to shove his foot in his shoe, tried to respond but it came out muffled. So his mother reached out and took the keys that were still hanging from his mouth and smiled. "What were you saying?" She laughed.

Micky finally stood on his two feet and smiled. "Are you sure that sentence was 'classic mom' enough? There's still time to tag a 'Young man' to the end of it, if you'd like?"

Janelle shook her head it that way that said 'This kid just cracks me up' as she glanced over to her husband. She stuck the keys back in Micky's mouth and patted the top of his head. "Get going." She laughed to herself once more before strolling back over to the kitchen.

Micky opened their front door and happily bounded over to his car. He hopped inside and pulled out from the driveway.

 

it didn't take long to drive over to Samantha's to pick her up, she was already sitting on her porch with anticipation as he pulled up to her curb. Upon seeing him, she sped over with her bag hitting against her hip as she walked. He slowed and managed to park pretty well just as she hit the end of her grass.

"Hey space geek." She looked him up and down, noticing his t-shirt and he rolled his eyes. He flashed her a smirk before she took to hopping in the car herself. 

"Don't ditch me, ok?" Samantha poked his shoulder before he pulled off and Micky nodded. 

"I won't." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mike...?" Peter approached Mike from just a few feet behind him. He'd momentarily moved to greet some of his other classmates that had made it to this party. He'd left Mike who, had previously called Peter just an acquaintance but he found that he was at his side more and more. Though he didn't know Mike that well yet, this seemed to be an odd thing for anyone. "Are you making toast?" 

Mike looked up at Peter's question and nodded, moving to collect the freshly popped toast with an ease like he was in his own kitchen. Slowly he reached for a knife from an open drawer and slathered on a thin layer of butter before he took a long bite. Peter blinked and laughed, deciding that Mike was actually pretty funny. "I'm usually more of a jam guy, but the butter will do. S'all this Steve guy has" Mike shrugged and took another bite.

"You a casual drinker, Pete?" Mike asked between bites and Peter shrugged with a little laugh. 

"More of a casual smoker, myself." Peter winked and Mike shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

"Didn't ask if you were a stoner, Peter. Don't drink on an empty stomach." Mike waved his toast just before popping the rest into his mouth. Quickly after, the toaster made another ding and out popped another piece of toast which Mike grabbed and held out for his friend. Not only was Peter grateful but supremely amused at this exchange. 

"Mike, if you're always going to be this willing to feed me, I'd like to keep you around." Peter chuckled and munched on his snack as he and Mike ventured out further into the booming party. And the further they went, the more Mike wanted to go back home. He'd been to his fair share of high school parties and this was his first as a Senior, so he had figured it should be a little more rewarding this time around. Alas, he wasn't sure what he'd expected. It was barely an hour into it and he was eating toast with the guy he smoked weed with on the occasion. But he supposed that was accurate to his high school experience, invited to the party but barely acknowledged. 

It was halfway through his Freshman year when he learned that staying silent and mysterious would be something he benefited from. It earned him some high school valued respect. Nobody messed with him if they didn't know much about him and maybe thought he was intimidating. And it also helped that he was no stranger to slacking off or being a twerp of a troublemaker in class sometimes. And though he couldn't stand some of the schools most known 'troublemakers', he figured he was a not quite as bad as them because he was self-aware and knew he was being stubborn when he did stuff like cut class.

Mike looked on to the crowd of his classmates and sighed.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, try not to have too much fun without me?" Peter chuckled and smacked Mike's arm before trotting over in the direction he hoped would lead to the bathroom. Mike rolled his eyes and nodded to himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had ditched Micky, but to be fair to her, it hadn't happened right away like it usually did. To her credit, she hung around him for a solid twenty minutes before she got caught up in her own little world and her girlfriends. Micky had gone around and greeted the people he liked the most at the party before going to hover by the couch in the living room.

He had just started to wonder if Sammy went off to find that Steve guy when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Turning around, he faced a guy around his height with a smile that read tipsy but not yet drunk. He grinned politely and waited for this guy to start some conversation because Micky surely wasn't interested in talking at the moment.

"Your Sam's friend, right? Micky." He asked with a look of curiosity on his face. 

"Yes, yes I am. She hasn't talked about me too much, has she?" Micky joked and the guy did that awkward sort of laugh and wiped his face a little. 

"She doesn't really have to, man. I feel like everyone knows you at this school. Usually gotta wait to be a Senior to be that popular." He laughed and punched Micky lightly on the shoulder. "I'm sure the gay thing helps though, huh?" 

Micky shrugged, not entirely sure what to say. He attempted to politely restrain himself from cringing though he wasn't sure why as the guy was becoming increasingly annoying.

"I'm Steve, by the way." He held out his hand and Micky shook it with a little bit of his own curiosity. 

"So this is your house?" He shook Steve's hand and laughed a little bit. "You should know someone threw up in your closet earlier." Micky cocked his head in that direction, hoping he might go off to check it out but he didn't seem to register that comment. 

"I actually invited Samantha cause I thought you'd come too." Steve bumped his elbow against Micky's who was growing increasingly uncomfortable. He furrowed his eyebrows and wondered if he'd misjudged how drunk this guy was. 

"Y'know, Sam thought you might be into her-" Micky trailed off as Steve moved in a little closer. He slid back a little bit but Steve continued to awkwardly hover. 

"She's a great chick. But I've kind of been curious about someone else..." Steve shuffled even closer and reached out to grab Micky's wrist when he moved to get some hair out of his eye. 

"Oh...ha....you see I've ummmm, I got to get back to Sammy. She's probably worried, you know?" Micky couldn't believe this was turning so fast in such a bad bad direction. He did that weird little huff of laughter he did when he was nervous and was reduced to his more anxiety filled version of himself. 

"Are you sure? We got some nice privacy for a few minutes, why waste it?" Steve gestured to their quiet little corner with his free hand and Micky gulped. 

"I think I just wanna get some water...and sober up a bit, I've had a few drinks...I need to slow down, y'know? I don't do that enough, it's a curse of mine really." Micky laughed again as his sentences became more and more rushed, trying to think of excuses to get away. 

"You'll have a lot more fun if your drunk, honestly." Steve laughed, he actually laughed at the end of that disgusting sentence. Micky felt unsettled as Steve's grip tightened on his wrist. Micky was not good in crisis situations, not at all. He was panicking as Steve started to gesture for them to go into a different room. Before Micky could even think of some kind of solution to get out of the awful situation, someone came over to them. 

"Hey, Micky." 

The two of them snapped their heads over and found that guy from Micky's chemistry class. As Micky let himself place Mike, Steve finally let go of his wrist.

"Just wonderin' if I could ask you a question about that chemistry homework from yesterday? I didn't end up doing it so" Mike asked, throwing a sharp glare to Steve who looked absolutely mortified. Micky, on the other hand, beamed with relief and nodded. 

"Course! Come on!" Micky then took the opportunity Mike gave him and strolled off to leave Steve behind. He gently grabbed Mike's upper arm and directed him to the far other side of the home and into the kitchen. He let go of his nervous breath and tried to collect himself before he spoke. Mike was already pouring them each a cup of water quietly. He handed the first one to Micky and calmly filled his next. 

"That guy is an asshole." Micky glared out into the crowd and sipped his water gratefully which made him remember to actually thank Mike. He turned with a thankful grin on his face. "Thanks for swooping in there, Mike. You've been a true savior lately, huh?" Micky chuckled and Mike shrugged, shoving his hand into his pocket. "And if you actually need help on that homework, I'd be glad to help." Micky joked. 

"You should probably go home." Mike said, ignoring the joke and the thank you. Micky sighed and shook his head. 

"Maybe....Someone would have to drive my friend home." Micky stood on his tiptoes and found Samantha standing with all her friends. He slipped out his phone and started to text her. "Maybe one of her girlfriends...." He trailed off before turning back to Mike. Despite the horrifying last few minutes, he put a smile on his face. Mike didn't seem to want to share the expression. 

While Mike was still glaring into the crowd, Micky got his confirmation text from Samantha that she'd be ok to get home on her own. She'd also asked why he was intending to leave and he made something up about homework rather then explaining. 

"Alright, looks like I'm good to go....come on." Micky patted Mike's upper arm as he passed by him and gracefully went around the corner of the counter. Mike raised his eyebrow and set his cup of water down. He stared at Micky for a few seconds. "Walk me to my car and we can talk about that homework you didn't do." Micky said as if it were obvious and turned back around, walking to the front door before Mike had time to say no. 

Mike would usually stay put in situations such as this. He didn't have an interest in following somebody's directions if it involved school work. But he found himself following Micky and he wasn't quite sure why. He reached out to catch the door as Micky breezed out and hopped down the porch steps, waiting for the slow paced Mike at the bottom.

The sky was a transitioning dark grey color and the air was chillier for a summer evening. Mike stopped a step above the bottom when he noticed the expression on Micky's face. "What?"

Micky's smile got a little wider as he shrugged, in a quick motion. "I didn't see you as the kind of guy to actually follow me." Micky chuckled and crossed his arms. Mike did not appreciate the action, feeling as if he was being laughed at. "But I'm glad you did. Let's talk chemistry, shall we?" Micky giggled and turned around, walking down the short path towards the sidewalk.

Mike stepped down the stair and followed the boy. He hovered a few inches behind Micky as they walked. "You don't seem like the kind of guy to be at a party like this." Mike shrugged.

"I am quite popular you know." Micky bumped his elbow against Mike's, who seemed to roll his eyes at that big-headed statement. "Maybe I should have used my British accent for that so you knew I was joking." Micky frowned at the awkward fall of that joke. He swallowed. 

"I know your 'popular' " Mike said with judgement and air-quotes. Micky kind of thought it was funny, the way Mike said or put emphasis things. So he chuckled which made Mike falter a little before he spoke again. "I just mean, you're so focused on talking about chemistry homework which is not very fun, if you ask me." Mike shrugged. "Are you like that all the time?" 

Micky paused and scrunched up his face a little. "I am a fun person. Ask anyone." he said sort of childishly. But it seemed Mike was judging him far too fiercely.

"Oh, you mean your loads of friends cause your so popular?" Mike asked back, still facing forward so Micky couldn't get a good look at his face. They continued to walk and Micky pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. 

"Yeah!" He glared. "I'm the life of the party, they'll tell you! I am the person to invite. I make everyone laugh and I think that's pretty fun, Mike whatever your last name is!" Micky huffed and thought that he might stop but he decided to keep going. "If anything, you seem like the boring one to me. I've been to tons of parties and-" 

Micky suddenly realized that Mike had stopped walking and turned back to face him. The other man had this look of amusement on his face that Micky didn't quite get...and that's when it hit Micky that Mike had been joking with him and it flew right over his head.

"Relax, man. I was just trying to get a rise from ya." Mike chuckled calmly and Micky frowned. Mike had made Micky look like a total prissy twerp just then. He bit into his lip and decided to laugh at himself a little. 

"Ooooh...." He chuckled lightly and rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to walk again. Mike caught right back up with him and bumped their elbows together. 

"I was just teasin' you." He repeated and tried to get Micky to look at him again, though Micky was blushing with embarrassment at his little rant. 

"It amuses you to embarrass people like that? You oughta sound less serious when you 'tease' people, let them know you're joking." Micky playfully reached out and poked Mike's arm. 

"Maybe I don't go for the obvious joke." Mike shrugged and Micky pondered that for a few seconds. "Did get you on that little rant of yours..." Mike chuckled and thought that whole thing over again while Micky was clearly blushing with embarrassment. The whole interaction was very funny to Mike. The more he thought about it, the more he laughed. Micky had gone so far into defense mode. "But seriously, you ever let loose?" 

Micky raised his brow, trying to glance at Mike as they walked. "You mean like you? Who was...I guess having so much fun that he didn't do his pretty simple chemistry homework?" Micky smirked and Mike rolled his eyes.

"There ain't nothing better than a little no strings attached, ol' fashioned recklessness." 'In moderation' Mike thought to himself but didn't say out loud in order to keep the teasing game going and not reveal that he himself wasn't all that exciting. He then shrugged.

Mike had said that in a calm voice though Micky thought it called for a more excited tone.

Micky neglected to bring up the times he'd gotten himself into a bit of trouble with Davy when he partied a little too hard in the past. Davy had saved his ass too many times to count when it came to covering for him to his parents. It was not some of his proudest moments nor was it something to brag about but he was not about to let Mike label him as not fun because that just wasn't true. 

They'd stopped walking again and Micky was clearly not as amused as Mike seemed to be. He stood with arms crossed and a tapping foot.

"How far is your car anyway?" Mike asked, still not walking again. "We've been down the whole street." 

"I parked a block away." Micky shrugged and turned his head to look down the next street. "I wanted to walk a little so I would be 'fashionably late'." Micky put up the air-quotes so it was clear he was poking fun at himself for that one. 

Mike's laughter gained more action once more, this time he crunched a little forward. "Fashionably late...I love that." He wiped under his eye to emphasize his state of laughter. "Wow Micky. You seem..."

Micky glared at him, daring him to finish his sentence.

"High maintenance." He chuckled and Micky playfully kicked his ankle. "Ow! Jeez, you got some kick, boy." Mike shook out his ankle and slowly set his foot back down on the ground like he was testing the waters with walking again even though Micky was well aware that he was exaggerating.

"I'm not high maintenance...I told you, I'm fun." Micky pouted like a child, playing along with this ridiculous little game they had going. 

"I didn't say high maintenance can't also be fun." Mike reached out and gently pushed Micky's shoulder back, teasing him once more. "Though, I highly doubt it." Mike went on with something of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. 

But Micky just rolled his eyes. "High maintenance can be fun." He smirked and Mike raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, clearly about to question what Micky was getting at. But before Mike could voice his confusion, Micky gracefully flew forward and pulled Mike forward by the collar of his shirt. He smashed their lips together and took satisfaction in the little groan sound that Mike made. He'd never done anything like this in his life so he tried to present himself well. The kiss was rushed and warm and soon over like the drop of a dime.

Micky pulled back and wiped the back of his hand across his moist lips. His face was a rosy pink color and he attempted to conceal his heavy, out of breath, breathing. Mike looked a mixture of flustered and bewildered. He stared at Micky with an expectant expression, the moment hinging on Micky completely. Micky really liked that. "You got somewhere to go or...?" Micky asked, figuring they were on the same page with this.

Mike almost choked on his own spit just then but was quick to cover it. "Ummm, yeah sure c'mon." He looked around at the empty street and grabbed Micky's hand which was soft and sort of sweaty. Mike had never been so self conscious about himself in his entire life. Micky flung around a bit as he turned to follow Mike who had turned in the opposite direction while holding onto his hand.

As what Mike was planning was coming into sight, he cringed slightly and flinched. He turned back to face Micky with their hands still interlocked and between them. "You ok with a van? I-I ummm, drove my friend Peter's here so I have the keys." He'd never been so thankful for his annoying habit of having to be the one who drives when he's with people he doesn't know all that well yet. But Micky seemed to be sort of a class act, he'd never been with anyone quite like him.

Micky sucked on the edge of his sleeve looking a little lost in thought for a minute. The whole action was rather adorable to Mike as he watched this boy. "Yeah. Van's good." Micky nodded, dropping his free arm to his side as he grinned and urged Mike to guide him further. And Mike did, trying not to actually have a spring in each step in fear that it would make him look like a fool. He took Micky to the back of the large fading orange van and let go of his hand to throw the large back doors open. It revealed the really obvious shag carpeting and Mike rolled his eyes, thinking of his new hippie friend.

Micky giggled, coming forward to run his hand up and down the carpet. "How..." He paused to glance at Mike to his right and flashed a little smile. "Groovy." He exaggerated and Mike just couldn't help himself. He curled his hands around Micky's waist before he had time to process it and lifted him from the ground. Micky's girlish squeal sent Mike into laughter once more as he set the boy on the edge of the van. They looked at each other, just laughing for a few seconds. It was as if they were both unsure of what to do next. But Micky leaned down and tipped Mike's chin up to kiss him once more. As they gently moved together, Mike pushed Micky's legs apart to stand comfortably between them. Leaving a hot trail, Mike buried his face between Micky's neck and shoulder.

Micky threw his head back so it'd be easier for him but with something of a whine coming out of his agape mouth just so Mike would hurry up and come back up to his lips again. But before Mike did, he gently laid Micky back and crawled inside the van himself. Once they were both comfortable, Mike reached out and shut the doors after them. When he crawled back over, he paused just above Micky to drink in how the man beneath him looked.

His cheeks were dusted with pink and his impatience was growing clearer and clearer. He reached his absolute height and reached up to pull Mike back down himself. Their lips were stuck on each other again in no time and their breathing fell in sync. "Miiiike." Micky let Mike's name waterfall perfectly from his mouth, flicking his tongue for emphasis as he poked Mike's arm.

"What is it?" Mike asked. 

"It's really hot in here and I'm assuming it's only gonna get hotter so would you be a dear and turn the air conditioner on?" Micky giggled and when Mike frowned, he ran his finger up from the base of Mike's throat to his chin to tilt it up. Once they were making complete eye contact, he smiled. Mike was sold. 

He hopped up and opened the doors again, going around the outside of the car while Micky sat up. He leaned his open palms back on the carpet and shook his feet as he waited. When the car turned on, his smile grew wider and he threw his head back to the source of the sound.

Mike was back in seconds flat, closing the doors behind him once more and setting the keys to the side. But with the engine started and the air on, the radio also awakened at a nice full volume.

'I looked out this morning and the sun was gone. Turned on some music to start my day-" 

"Oooh...." Micky hummed with pleasure as Mike went back to kissing at his neck. He smiled against Mike's face as the song continued and being that he was the way he was, Micky couldn't help but sing along. 

"I lost myself in a familiar song. I closed my eyes and I slipped away-" Micky closed his eyes as he sang the words with the radio and he felt a little falter in Mike's actions but he figured it was nothing. "It's more than a feeling...When I hear that old song they used to play....And I begin dreaming-" Micky went on but paused when he felt Mike rise up. 

"What?" Micky blinked as he looked up at Mike. 

Mike licked his lips and shook his head. "Nothin'" And then he went back at it again. Silently he waited and waited....and Micky continued to sing along just like he'd been doing moments before.

Something about Micky's voice was sending Mike's head reeling. That soft toned voice was the echo of the night and Mike knew that it was going to be stuck in his head for months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky pulled himself upwards and shoved his arms through his jacket sleeves. Mike was asleep, sprawled across the shag carpeting that Micky adored. Quietly, Micky pulled his shoes on and sat up on his legs, stretching mildly. He checked his watch and nearly had a heart attack. He slept through his curfew by at least 2 hours. If he was lucky, his parents might not have called the cops. Slowly, he crawled back and tapped Mike's shoulder. "Mike?" He whispered but the man remained frighteningly still. "Mike?" He tried again.

"What?" Mike sat up shocked and looked directly at Micky.

"I missed my curfew." Micky held out his wrist. Mike chuckled with a mixture of amusement and worry.

"Alright.-"

Micky leaned over and smiled. "I told you I was right." he said casually as he put his other shoe on. Mike furrowed his brow but Micky didn't seem to understand or notice it. Mike mindlessly flicked through his phone as Micky finished up. He got ready to quickly ask Micky for his number so that they could keep this thing going-

"I told you I was fun." Micky giggled and Mike was about to agree when Micky spoke again.

"Believe it or not but, I too, also know how to have no strings attached fun." Micky chuckled and Mike's heart dropped to his stomach. Micky scooted closer to the doors. "You had fun, right?" He turned back to Mike who quickly tried to hide the hurt that had been slashed across his face. He felt his throat swell a tiny bit.

"Yeah...I did." He nodded and Micky smiled.

"Good night, Mike. I'll see ya in chemistry." Micky said with such a cool casualness in his voice and then he hopped out of the van. When Micky shut the doors, Mike's face fell sorely flat. He clenched his phone in frustration with his foolishness for thinking this would go anywhere.


End file.
